


The End of the Beginning

by tartan_suitcase (miss_whimsy)



Series: A World Entirely Our Own [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Post Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1571147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_whimsy/pseuds/tartan_suitcase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony stopped in the doorway and surveyed the wreckage of his living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of the Beginning

Tony stopped in the doorway and surveyed the wreckage of his living room. 

Maybe wreckage was too strong a word. It certainly didn't look like it had suffered through an alien invasion this time. Just like it had been invaded and the invaders had devoured fifteen pizzas and enough beer and fruit juice to fill a couple of bathtubs and left the remnants strewn across every surface. He took a moment to feel grateful he'd ordered the larger couches when he'd remodeled the tower; there was no way everyone would have fit on the old ones.

Rhodey and Bruce were each settled in a corner of the sofa facing the TV, so they could battle it out at Super Mario Kart. Sam sat between them, valiantly trying to stay awake as he fought to win the game, but Tony could see it was a losing battle. Sam hadn't had the same conditioning as the others when it came to late night video game sessions. Rhodey and Bruce were used to Tony's hours.

Thor was stretched out on the floor, his back propped up against Sam's legs. Tony assumed he'd been watching the game until he'd fallen asleep. 

Natasha, Clint and Coulson had commandeered the couch on the far side of the room, with the best view of the door. Clint was passed out too, head cradled in Phil's lap, the controller he'd clearly been using having fallen to the floor in front of him. Phil had one arm around Clint and one around Natasha where she sat pressed against his side, head on his shoulder as she slept.

On the sofa closest to him, he could see Steve stretched out and a metal arm firmly around his waist. He stared for a moment and then turned away.

"Tony?"

Steve's gentle voice stopped him in his tracks and made him look back. Steve's face was now visible, chin resting on his shoulder as he stretched out his left arm towards Tony, fingers waggling. 

"Where've you been? C'mere."

"I had a couple of things to take care of," Tony said, answering the question to avoid doing what Steve wanted. He looked sleepy and soft and happier than Tony had ever seen him. "Get some rest."

"Wait," Steve said, struggling into a seated position and Tony felt awful for putting that look of confusion on his face, for disturbing them, for the sliver of jealousy that wanted to tug Steve away and wrap him up and say "mine" even though he wasn't, never had been. "What's wrong?"

Steve was still reaching out to him, and Tony stepped closer, unable to do anything else. "Nothing."

"Liar," Steve said, stretching to grab hold of Tony's hand and tug him closer. "Come on, you look exhausted."

"I didn't want to bother you. You were busy."

Steve blinked and then he looked down, looked up, stroked his thumb over the back of Tony's hand. "Yeah, but it'd have been better if you were around too."

"Understood," Tony said. "Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't asleep," Steve said, smiling. "I'm waiting to see if Sam pitches into Thor's lap when he finally nods off."

Tony threw a quick glance in Sam's direction. He was listing towards Bruce, controller lying idle in his hands. "Think you lost that bet, Rogers."

"Damn, that was going to be funny." Tony chuckled and Steve's smile widened. "I knew I could get you smile."

"Do you just sit there making bets with yourself?"

Steve nodded. "Yes. You could sit down and make them with me instead."

Tony started to move away again, to protest, when Bucky sat upright, face scrunched up as he yawned and stretched. 

"Jesus, Stark. You'd think he was asking to punch you really hard in the face. Sit your ass down before I do just that."

Tony hesitated for a moment, in which Steve threw a fond glance at Bucky. 

"What did I say about the threats?"

"That they're only cute the first five times?"

Steve pulled hard on Tony's hand without looking at him, and Tony toppled down next to Steve, pressed firmly along his side.

"That's better," Steve said, winding his arm around Tony, keeping him close. He did the same to Bucky on his other side. "Now I can sleep."

Tony tilted his head, watching as Steve's head fell back against the sofa almost instantly. He let out a breath, and then quickly sucked in another one. Damn.

A metal finger prodded Tony's thigh and he switched his attention to Bucky who was watching him far too knowingly. "He's like a mother hen. Can't sleep until all his chicks are safe." Tony opened his mouth to protest that he wasn't anyone's chick, but Bucky shook his head. "Stop being an ass. He likes you. Enjoy it."

Across the room, Natasha moved, her knee coming into contact with Clint's head. He flinched, but didn't wake, Coulson making cooing noises that Tony would have taken great pleasure in mocking another time. Rhodey and Bruce were still battling it out on Rainbow Road, trash talking each other under their breath and then giggling like teenagers. Sam was now lying across both of them, dead to the world and Thor was curled up on the floor, holding Mjolnir like a teddy bear against his chest.

Bucky had his head on Steve's shoulder, but his eyes remained open, supposedly watching the race on the TV, but every few minutes his eyes would flick round the room, checking the people, the exits, the windows. Checking that Steve was still there, even though the arm around his shoulders couldn't fail to convince him.

Tony turned his attention back to Steve, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept, the way his thumb was stroking Tony's neck, unconsciously soothing the turmoil of Tony's brain. 

He closed his eyes, for the first time in a long time feeling safe and sure in his position, and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
